


Chapter 01: To Build a Home

by ForwardUntoFate



Series: From the Ashes [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForwardUntoFate/pseuds/ForwardUntoFate
Summary: Marcus Stark has spent years fighting a fruitless war against foreign invaders. He has lost friends and loved ones to it, driving him to the point of melancholy. Finally he realised that he had fought enough. The birth of his son and a near death experience were enough to open his eyes. Since then he has spent a year of peace and quiet with his loving family, building for their future.But this isn’t the beginning of Stark’s story. This is the end of it…





	Chapter 01: To Build a Home

A storm was brewing on the horizon. It began with a gentle breeze of clashing ethics and ideologies. The cries for help being heard from both the east and western gales. The debates and confrontations of darkened clouds colliding inevitably turned violent, with conflict and war heard in the howl of each shrieking gust. Where most storms would dissipate and settle this grew to become a wild hurricane of aggression and destruction, one that consumed the west, and the east. Bolts of lighting struck all beneath the clouds regardless of who they were, and the raging winds tore at everything they held dear. There was no avoiding it’s path of devastation for long. The world was in disarray and being blown to pieces under the grotesque and blackened guise of  _ freedom _ and  _ patriotism _ . The west had endured many storms throughout history and defied the odds countless times, yet this whirlwind of despair was different.

_ Marcus Stark _ stood on a tall hill looking out at his home. An idyllic town was set before him, bustling with life, and behind him was his house and family in the middle of a peaceful cul de sac. The sun shone down and showered him with light and warmth. He felt content. His entire life had been building to this moment, to finally being there for his family. For well over a decade he had known nothing but war and death. He had seen the absolute worst of humanity and all for a greedy cause. Instead of fighting for his country he had been killing for oil. It had spilled into every facet of his life and almost cost him his marriage, until one day he woke up and knew it was time to walk away. Since that day he had lived his life in service to one thing, and one thing only. His family. His beautiful wife with her glowing green eyes that could warm even the coldest of hearts, and his perfect baby boy, who he considered to be his greatest achievement in life. Marcus had traveled the world, saved lives, prevented atrocities, and killed merciless warlords. But his son topped it all. He was pure. Untainted by the darkness of the world. And Marcus would keep it so for as long as possible.

The world around him was calm and at peace. Families were playing football in the field, or cooking with barbecues in their backyards. Children played down by the shallow river and looked for a place to cool off in the heat. In the town ahead he could see pedestrians moving all about. With Halloween right around the corner people were getting ready. Some bought candy, others purchased decorations, but all of them were carrying something for their costumes. It was the one time of year that  _ everyone  _ could celebrate and enjoy, and so they did. The town was alive, and the sight of it made Marcus smile.  _ This _ was what he had once believed he fought for. The American way of life. Before he knew the truth and how morally bankrupt his government really was. This would mark not only his son’s first Halloween but also the first that Marcus had been in the country for since he enlisted. Not too long ago he had caught his wife crying in the kitchen because she realised that he would be with them, and that he would be so for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It had taken weeks for both of them to accept the magnitude of his resignation. Fortunately she had shed tears of joy. 

He had escaped the storm before and found peace in his life that had eluded him for so long. But all that was at risk. The storm on the horizon crept closer with each passing moment. He felt the warmth fade and the hills grow darker. When he looked up he watched as the sun was being consumed by the peril before him, and he could feel the wind that brought it closer as it kissed his skin when it blew by. In the distance he could see the people in town scurrying around in a panic. No longer were they taking a leisurely stroll. Most had dropped their bags and food, leaving it all behind as they scrambled to safety. Marcus could hear their screams and cries for mercy echoing throughout the landscape. The wind picked up cars and smashed them into shops, and tore through buildings with it’s piercing gusts. Bolts of lighting struck everything below them and turned the once placid town into a war zone. He couldn’t believe the devastation he was bearing witness to. 

He watched the carnage unfold as the storm anchored above the town. All of the businesses he had visited, and all the people he knew, were being erased. As if they never existed. It was terrifying. Something caught his attention though. A faint sound that he knew all too well. The frightened cries of his infant son had finally reached him. Marcus ran towards his home crossing the bridge into his subdivision and down the street, where he found nothing but chaos and horror. The families that had been playing football were battling each other in a free for all battle royale. The barbecues were grilling limbs and human organs while the cooks stood there with missing appendages and holes in their bodies. The river was much deeper now with children floating face down in a torrent of crimson. When he reached the house he burst through the front door to find his home in ruins. The furniture was either gone or rotted. The ceiling and walls had been worn away by storms and the windows were smashed to pieces. He called for his wife but to no avail. His son’s cries filled his ears and he searched desperately for his baby boy. In his nursery was nothing but an empty crib. Marcus screamed and smashed his fists against the walls. Where were his family? Through the broken window he could see his neighbors running for their lives with suitcases in hand. He made his way outside and watched as they ran for the cliff behind their home. The man ran down the path and followed it as it brought him across the river of blood and up the hills to the cliff. When he reached the end he saw his beloved wife standing on the edge, cradling their beautiful son in her arms. He called out to her but she couldn’t hear him. The roar of the wind was deafening and the storm closed in on their homes. Marcus grabbed hold of his paramour and turned her around. She looked him dead in the eye with a still and empty gaze as the chaos began to envelop them all.

“ _ Why didn’t you do more _ ?”

Marcus stepped back in shock as she suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs and their child fell to the jagged ground. He reached out to catch him but caught only his blanket. He waited for the crack. The sound of bones breaking on concrete and an innocent life coming to an end. But it never came. His boy had vanished and his wife wailed like a banshee. As his entire world was laid to waste he could feel a warmth on his face once again and turned to see a blazing inferno blowing towards them. He tried to drag his beloved to safety but she wouldn’t budge, not even looking at him when he begged her to flee. Marcus dropped to his knees and watched as the flames closed in. For a long time he had pretended that he had escaped the storm before them, that his family and way of life were safe from the horror. But he was wrong. The flames licked at his body and surrounded he and his wife. Instead of looking for a way out he simply embraced the love of his life.

“ _ Forgive me… _ ” he whispered

  
  
  


Marcus jolted upright and shook the bed. He was drenched in sweat and felt as though his heart might burst through his chest. He sat there for a while with his head in his hands thinking about what he had seen in that nightmare. He’d experienced plenty of night terrors throughout his career, and had accepted that was a small price to pay for surviving war. This was different though. Most of his dreams were about his comrades or things from the war, but  _ never  _ had they included his family. Marcus had never put much stock in dreams, knowing they were merely a byproduct of a person’s experiences and thoughts. He likely had dreamed about them because he was no longer an active duty soldier. His comrades had been traded for his family and with all he’d seen in the last decade he couldn’t help but fear for their safety. It was irrational to think that the Chinese would dare invade the heartland of North America, especially after they had been driven out of Alaska and were presently defending their own nation from the American counter-invasion. Yet the idea nibbled at him. Did he make a mistake retiring before the war was won?  _ Should I have stayed? _

“ _ Marcus? _ ”

He looked over his shoulder to see his wife looking at him through her waking eyes. Even half asleep  _ Grace  _ was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She had a slim build with long sandy blonde hair and mesmerising green eyes. He couldn’t help but get lost in her gaze from time to time. 

“I’m fine, it was just a nightmare.”

Grace sat up and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re safe. We’re here, now. Just breathe in and out, and tell me what you see.”

Marcus took a breathe in for four seconds and let it out for five, then started to list everything he could see around him. He did this for several minutes to relax his body and clear his mind. With her embrace it came easier. By pointing out all the things he could see in the bedroom it helped to focus his mind on the present and move past the nightmare. When he was finally relaxed he put his arms around her and held her close. They had become experts at managing his night terrors over the years. Grace’s sister was a rather successful psychologist and had helped Marcus to cope with his career and the choices he had to make. Since then Grace had been his rock.

“Was it the war again?” She asked.

He put his forehead against hers and sighed. “Not this time.”

When he told her about what he’d seen she merely listened patiently. He knew she wasn’t superstitious and doubted she would begin to panic. 

“Marcus,” she began as she grabbed his face with both hands, “we’re safe.  _ Nothing  _ is going to happen to us. I promise.”

“After all the things I’ve told you over the years, all the horrible shit I’ve seen and done, you should know that you can’t possibly make that promise and mean to keep it.”

“It doesn’t matter what I have or haven’t been told, hun. Because I know that no matter what you won’t let anything hurt me or that beautiful smelly boy next door.”

They both laughed at that. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

“I believe it had something to do with you defending my honour in a bar fight.” She smirked.

Marcus and Grace had met when they were in their freshman year of college at Boston University. For the first six months they were friends that saw each other at parties or classes, but eventually they started to study, eat, and carpool together. A lot of their friends were anxiously waiting for them to finally become an item and knew they each had strong feelings for one another. But being teenagers they made it complicated. Marcus had let loose in his early days of college. He partied, drank, took drugs, and fucked around, all in search of what he believed to be the ‘full college experience’. Grace was quite rebellious as well at the time, and even had a phase as a pyro lover much to everyone’s amusement. Despite their vices and similar interests, they weren’t drawn to each other by what they liked or did. What brought them together was their shared experiences with dysfunctional families. Marcus had disappointed his parents since the day he took his first steps, and Grace had lost her mother to breast cancer only a few months prior to the start of term. The struggles they both endured were fundamentally different and had little in common, but the absence of a stable home life was something that none of their other friends or partners had. It made them stronger.

Marcus had grown up as the middle child in a military family. His mother was a Lieutenant General in the Army and his father was a Major General in the Air Force. Both had risen to their ranks through decades of perseverance and sacrifice. His mother held command of the National Guard base in Massachusetts and oversaw the Guard all over the East Coast. She was essentially given the task of protecting the east and organising tens of thousands of troops to defend the mainland. His father held a similar command and coordinated air units in the Alaskan campaign. They were career soldiers with an uncompromising dedication to their country. When it came to their kids they were fairly distant and expected them to similarly serve in the military and continue their family legacy. But Marcus never felt that pull. He grew up with a strong disdain for the Armed Forces with how they had robbed him of a proper childhood. Growing up he had only really been raised by nannies and his older brother, who taught him all the things his father should have.  _ Shaun _ sacrificed his own childhood to give his siblings a chance at having theirs.  _ He was my hero. All I ever wanted was to be as perfect as him.  _ Shaun and their sister,  _ Michelle _ , followed the path set before them and when they were old enough they enlisted. Marcus refused to do so. He spent all of his free time working towards a scholarship for college and eventually was accepted into Boston University, all without help from his parents. When he inevitably left to begin his college life they cut him off and refused to pay his tuition.  _ But I didn’t need their money. I took out a student loan, worked a job, even made some extra money on the side helping a friend out with a few less than legal deals. _ Marcus had spent the first eighteen years of his life alone and guided mostly by a boy three years older than him. But at the University he was free. If only for a few years.

Grace had her own tragic upbringing that few people knew about. Her father had a reputation as a ruthless businessman and was incredibly well respected in the corporate world. As such she had grown up wealthy and wanted for nothing in her adolescence, but it was also lonely. Buying her material possessions was a way for her father to make up for the heartless manner in which he conducted himself over the years, and to reassure her that he loved her. When Grace was old enough to understand exactly what it was that her father did to make his money, she quickly began to despise him. Her mother was a famous model from Italy that made the mistake of falling in love with a crime lord. When Grace was fifteen the family learned that her mother had breast cancer and so began the long and gruelling war to beat it.  _ Only they never did. She died six months before college began. Grace would often tell people that her mom died when she was fifteen, not out of spite or disrespect, but because that was the last time she had seen her mom be whole. _ The teenage Grace endured the grief and loss far better than her father and brothers. The businessman rarely returned to their family home and saw the children a mere handful of times in passing. She was alone, effectively orphaned, forced to look after her siblings, and felt an overwhelming desire to run for the hills. Little did she know that she would run right into the one person that would end her solitude.

“You mean when I brawled with your asshole boyfriend in front of a hundred people?”

“Otherwise known as the moment I realised I loved you.” She said.

Back in their early college days Grace was dating another boy named Simon that she’d been with for over a year, while Marcus had somewhat of a complicated open relationship with one of their mutual friends. Neither of their partners liked the bond the two shared which was understandable, and ultimately it led to a major conflict in Grace’s relationship. She blamed Marcus for it at first, showing up at his apartment one night and screaming at him. They didn’t speak for several weeks after that. Eventually though the two were reconciled but it took a while before they were comfortable around each other again.  _ I hated those months. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest and left me for dead. Without her to talk to or be around I felt alone.  _ Marcus would spend those months changing his ways. He drank and partied less, studied more, and stopped sleeping with random girls. Grace’s absence in his life would ironically be the best thing that could have happened, as it inevitably made her see the real Marcus. 

One night Grace and her boyfriend were out with a group of others celebrating someone’s birthday. Half of them were from she and Marcus’s main group of friends, but the others were all other students that he knew only in passing.  _ Which is why I wasn’t invited.  _ Nearing on midnight Marcus arrived with two of his closest friends and bumped into the others, politely mingling for a little while before heading to shoot some pool. He knew from the moment he saw Grace that she was unhappy. She tried her hardest not to look at him but when she finally did the tears swelled in her eyes and she slipped away into the restroom. 

His mind was racing as he waited for her to return. He kept watching the door to see when she would walk out. Eventually it caught the attention of Simon who had just emerged instead. The young man had been threatened by Marcus since day one, but now he felt like he’d won and driven a wedge between he and Grace. His smug ego gave everyone a rotten feeling whenever he spoke. At first Marcus thought he was a nice, quiet guy, one that was respectful and open minded. But after the divide was formed his entire personality changed. He was arrogant and boisterous, and smothered Grace with his shadow, never giving her the chance to shine. When he approached Marcus it was to pour salt in the wound and gloat that he’d won her in some sort of competition he’d concocted. It took every fibre of his being not to lay him out right then and there, but Marcus made the wiser choice and let him strut away waving his victory banner.  _ My friends were ready and waiting to pull me back apparently. But I knew it was time to go. _

Before they left Marcus paid for their drinks, while the others said their goodbyes. A gorgeous blonde at the bar made the effort to talk to him while he stood there, and pointed out that he clearly hadn’t had a good night.  _ I wonder what gave it away. _ He spent a few minutes there chatting to her as he waited for his friends, and by the time they were ready even she had left. The friends made their way out but before walking out the door he looked back.  _ That was when I saw her. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, she had put on a scarf despite it being hot as hell, and even from across the room I could see  _ **_it_ ** . Marcus marched across the room to reach her and saw her face up close. She had a red mark across her cheek from where she’d been hit. He was enraged and stared into her sorrowful eyes with tears swelling in his own. He reached out to move the scarf and saw what would eventually become massive bruises where she had been choked. 

_ “Say it.”  _ He said to her.

_ “Simon…”  _

That was all Marcus needed to hear. He walked right up to the egomaniacal sadist and smashed a beer bottle across his face. A fairly one sided fight broke out with Marcus throwing and beating him around the room. He pummeled the bastard into a bloody mess while Grace watched with hate in her eyes. 

_ “If you  _ **_ever_ ** _ lay a hand on that amazing girl again I will find you, I will break your knees, and haul your ass out into the woods to die alone. Do you understand?  _ **_DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!_ ** _ ” The formerly arrogant young man nodded and sobbed as Marcus stood over him. “From this moment on you will  _ **_never_ ** _ see her again. You won’t visit, call, text, or email. If you’re in any of her classes you’ll leave. You even look at her again and I’ll cut those beady little eyes out and feed them to you.” _

That was the night their relationship began. It took a few months for Grace to recover from the abuse she’d suffered, but with help from a therapist and Marcus she did. The real Grace returned to the world through her own hard work and persistence. She refused to let Simon win, to keep her down and broken.  _ That perseverance only made me love her more, and so I waited. I had no expectations of what could happen. All that mattered was giving her the support she needed. Nothing else was important.  _ From the very beginning their relationship had been complicated. But despite it all they found a way to each other, and built a life neither had expected. They both admitted their love that fateful night but agreed to wait until she had recovered. Marcus wanted her to feel safe and in control so he gave her the reins and let her decide when to make the first move, and how fast they would proceed.  _ It’s something that’s lasted the breadth of our relationship. I never want her to look at me the way she looked at him that night.  _ Simon did press charges after he was released from the hospital but Grace had already pressed her own and taken out a restraining order. Marcus had been waiting for the school to expel him over it all but the conversation never happened. Then one day he and Grace were told that Simon was the one expelled instead. For awhile he had wondered if his parents had intervened, but when he finally met Grace’s father at a thanksgiving dinner for the first time as her boyfriend he just knew it was  _ his _ doing. The day they first met happened the previous year and was awkward as the man grilled him and the rest of her friends about their future plans, acting especially cold toward Simon. But at her family home for thanksgiving he was kind and inviting, talking to Marcus as opposed to interrogating him.  _ He knew what she had been through, and knew I’d always defend her no matter the consequences. _ That was the first day that he knew they’d never be divided again. He would cross the burning wastes of Hell itself to keep her safe.

Marcus tucked some hair behind his beloved’s ear and became lost in her eyes. Even after seventeen years together he was amazed by her beauty. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He asked with smile.

“Oh, so it’s going to be one of  _ those  _ kind of mornings!”

“What on earth could you mean by that?”

“How can you claim to love me but wake me up so early on our sleep in day?” She japed.

“You’re absolutely right! Allow me to make it up to you.” Marcus pushed her back into the bed and held her down as he began to tickle her. She laughed and started to weep, begging for him to stop. Grace wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed at his arms, only for him to take her wrists and pin them down above her head. Both of them paused and looked at each other.

“That’s more like it, Captain.” She teased.

Marcus kissed her passionately on the lips. Grace’s legs tightened around his waist and held him close. He subtly began wriggling his hips and grinding against her and eventually felt the effect as her underwear moistened. Grace slipped her hands free and helped him pull off her T-shirt, whimpering as he kissed her neck and trailed down to her breasts. Soon he continued moving south, kissing his way down her stomach and slowly sliding her underwear off. She ran her fingers through her hair and watched as he teased her, kissing her mound and then her thighs. She had spread her legs in anticipation and bit her lip waiting for him to taste her core. The dutiful husband pleasured his wife as long as she needed, doing whatever she asked. After her second climax he moved up her body and looked into her dazzling eyes.

“Not a bad way to wake up!” She laughed as she patted him on the face

“Better than being jolted by my nightmare?”

“Absolutely! Feel free to wake me up this way every morning.” She winked.

Grace pushed him down flat and climbed on top. She looked into his eyes as she moved her core back and forth over his manhood. He ran his hands up and down her thighs as his goddess of a wife rocked her hips and leaned forward for a kiss. They crossed their tongues and held each other close. That was when he felt himself slowly enter her gates. She gasped into his ear and quivered when he had made it all the way inside. Grace bit his earlobe and rested her forehead on his as she continued to sway her hips. Marcus touched her face and kissed her softly, holding her waist as she ground those hips faster and with more purpose. He could smell the sweat dripping off of her in a sweet aroma. Unlike most people it was a sweet odour, not a foul one. Her long hair had fallen down and covered her perfectly rounded breasts. Marcus could feel the pressure building within himself. He breathed heavier and began to swear, as well as encourage her movements. Soon enough the pressure reached the top and he told her to rock forth with even more vigour. She complied without hesitation and begged for him to release what he kept inside. He used his thumb to tingle her core and ignited a fire within her waist that made her eyes roll into the back of her head.  _ That  _ was when he let go. 

Grace collapsed on top of him. They both lay in their bed smiling and listening to the chirping of birds outside. Marcus ran his finger up and down her spine, feeling the sweat as it trickled away. She rested her hands under her chin and looked at her man.

“How do you feel about that nightmare now, Captain Stark?”

“What nightmare?” He smirked.

“I suppose we should probably get up now? Or maybe you’d like to join me in the shower for round two?” She winked.

As he was about to answer the couple heard the stirring cries of their infant son. They both giggled and sighed.

“Well, our kid just has impeccable timing.” He joked.

The two roused from their bed and cleaned up. Grace left to jump in the shower, giving him a seductive gaze over her shoulder as she walked out, while Marcus slipped into a pair of track pants and a plain white t-shirt. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked to the nursery, finding  _ Codsworth  _ their Mister Handy robot already attempting to soothe his son. 

“Good morning, sir!” He said in his classy English accent. “It seems young  _ Shaun _ is in need of some breakfast. Shall I feed him, or would you prefer to do so?”

“I’ll take it from here, Codsworth. Thanks buddy.”

“It is my pleasure sir!”

The polite robot left the room to continue with his daily tasks, while Marcus picked up his son and sat down in the feeding chair. Next to it was the bottle of milk, the bib, and hand towel to cover his shoulder and the left side of his chest should the little guy not keep his milk down. The little man consumed it all quick enough but Marcus sat there holding him for a while longer, looking down at his innocent boy with pure affection. Eventually though the moment was chased away by the smell of his son’s first deposit of the day. He changed Shaun’s diaper with expert precision and efficiency, and looked at him for his approval, which the child enthusiastically gave. For a moment Marcus was amused by the whole situation. He had spent the last twelve years of his life as a soldier, fighting the Chinese invaders for his country, and had earned dozens of medals and accolades. Over the course of his career he had saved countless lives, taken just as many, made lifelong friendships, buried too many of his friends, and prevented several catastrophes from costing them the war.  _ But now here I am, changing diapers! _ It made him laugh more than anything, until he felt guilty for thinking it. Many of the comrades from his unit would never get to see their children again, and those that still lived would cut off their own arm if it meant they could return home for a single day of respite. Yet here was Marcus. Taking it all for granted. 

The man placed his son back in the crib and left him to nap. He could hear the water still running in the bathroom, and could see Codsworth down the hall fluffing about in the kitchen. Life was certainly easier with him in the house. Many of the day to day chores of life were now taken care of by him, freeing both Marcus and Grace up to do as they pleased.  _ And to think that Grace was hesitant about getting him.  _ He took off his T-shirt and quietly slipped into the bathroom. Grace was behind the curtain and hadn’t heard him yet, so he took off his sweatpants and approached her from behind as she hummed and sang beneath the water. Marcus silently crept into the shower then grabbed hold of his wife. She screamed and swore to her hearts content, then laughed with him. He had one hand around her throat and she other on her belly, holding her close against his body.

“Took you long enough!” She chided. 

“Take it up with your son.”

“Shall we ground him for his disrespect?”

“I dear say if we don’t he’ll just keep being impertinent.” He smirked.

They giggled at the notion of grounding an infant. “First thing’s first though!” Grace wriggled her hips and awoke his manhood once again.

The couple spent a further half an hour locked together. In the bedroom they had made love, a sensual and tender experience that Marcus needed after his nightmare. But this time was different. They weren’t making love, they were fucking. 

  
  
  


“ _ War never changes… _ ”

Marcus wiped the condensation off the mirror in front of him and stared at the reflection looking back. His cold blue eyes weren’t as tired as they used to be, but his beard was getting a little too big for his liking. 

“You’re gonna knock em dead at the Veteran’s Hall tonight, hon.” Grace said as she hugged him from behind.

“You think?”

“Absolutely!” She kissed him on the cheek, then flicked him on the ear. “Now get ready and quit hogging the mirror.”

He smiled and shook his head. Marcus began with trimming his beard, but wondered about his upcoming event.

“Babe? Beard, or no beard?”

“No beard, it’s classier. And it shows that you actually care about your appearance.”

He shot her a confused look. “I thought you liked my beard?”

“I do,” She began, “but the whole point of this night is to show people that life after the service can be fruitful and positive. If you keep the beard it’s a sign that you haven’t let go of your career, and you’re less worried about taking care of yourself.”

“Well, that’s insightful. Guess I’ll just get rid of my distracted hobo bush.” He joked.

“Hey,  _ you asked _ .” She shrugged.

When he was finally done he stood there amazed at what he saw. He’d kept that beard for seven years and almost expected to look radically different than before it grew out. Maybe older. But so far his face was still fair. For a thirty-five year old man that had spent over a decade in combat he was still youthful.  _ At least I got good genes from my parents. If nothing else. _ Grace was right though, he looked much cleaner without the bush. Before he could go to find some clothes she brought him a pair of jeans and a plaid button up shirt. In the reflection he caught a glimpse of the scars that marred his body. Some were from gunshots, others from shrapnel, and more than a few came from his time as a prisoner of war. They were a daily reminder to him that he was lucky. Anyone of those wounds could have led to his demise but still he survived, refusing to fall. If the scars were some sort of price of making it home alive then he was glad to pay it.

Now that he was home he had to think about the future and what he would be so that he could still be around to see his son grow up. In the first couple of weeks that he was back he visited the local VA building and reconnected with a few of his old comrades, and made friends with others. Some of them simply retired, but others were discharged after injuries. One day he was present for a presentation by a motivational speaker, trying to inspire some of them to get back out into the world, and couldn’t believe the things that the woman was saying.  _ She had no idea how to connect with her own audience. It was obvious she had brought the same speech that she gave everyone else. Which was pointless.  _ Marcus knew that those soldiers deserved better and stepped up. He questioned the speaker and pointed out the fact that for most of them the trouble with motivation stemmed from post traumatic stress. They struggled to get past the war and what they’d done, or what they’d lost.  _ I told them the truth, that there’s no shame in feeling that way. That asking for help didn’t make them weak, quite the opposite in fact. Struggling with war and what we’re asked to do only proves that we’re human, and that we’re good at heart. _ It didn’t take long for the VA to reach out about his speech. At first he expected some sort of lecture about disrespecting guest speakers or some such nonsense. Instead they offered him a job. He would put his college education to use by giving presentations in Boston each month and writing articles for their newsletter, as well as publishing other write ups. It was rather unexpected but the job paid well and would keep him busy. While he would need to travel to other cities every now and then it meant he would mostly stay close to home. 

Tonight he was meant to be giving a speech to at least three-hundred veterans and perhaps even their family members. The thought of standing up in front of that many people made him nervous.  _ Which is ridiculous. I’ve faced off against countless enemies, been pinned down in a building for days at a time, been hunted by Chinese spec-ops, flown into anti-air fire, crashed a vertibird, and been taken prisoner. But not once did I really feel afraid.  _ Perhaps the nerves stemmed from his uncertainty over the speech. His original one focused on the war and the consequences of it should things continue, which was naturally quite bleak.  _ War never changes though _ . Instead he had written something that centred around the ‘future’ and ‘family’, a much more politically fair topic. With several high ranking officers attending the evening’s event he needed to be cautious with his words.  _ Don’t want to piss off the brass now. _ His speech remarked that the scars soldiers bear are nothing to be ashamed about, as they show that they are a survivor. More importantly he mentions that the greatest injuries aren’t always physical, but are psychological, and that denying the way war affects a soldier’s mind is costing their nation valuable men and women in the long term.  _ We need to change how we perceive trauma in our servicemen and women before it’s too late. _ Marcus knew there was little chance of backlash on that particular topic. The officers attending the event were all loud advocates of the issue.  _ Thankfully. _

The freshly shaved captain exited the bathroom and walked down the hall to their dining room. The house they lived in wasn’t particularly large but it was completely modern. It had been built along with the rest of the neighbourhood only two years ago, and the developers had big plans to expand and take advantage of the natural beauty around them. The area would be the perfect place for Shaun to spend the first few years of his childhood, but eventually he and Grace would want to move on and find something bigger.  _ Especially if we have another kid. _ Grace was at the kitchen counter reading the paper and eating her breakfast which was made of sausages, two poached eggs, and crispy bacon, all prepared by Codsworth who was already working on Marcus’ meal. 

“ _ Ah, good morning sir! _ ” Said the stainless bot. “Your coffee is on the counter, one-hundred and seventy degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to  _ perfection _ !” 

“Wow,” Grace said, “I almost forgot what you looked like under all that hair. And here I was about to chide you for fluffing around in there.”

“Time well spent then?” Marcus asked as he sipped at his coffee.

“Absolutely!”

Next to his mug was a limited edition comic book.  _ Grognak the Barbarian and the Jungle of the Bat Babies. My favourite. _ He didn’t have many guilty pleasures in life, thanks to living as a soldier for so long, but collecting comics was something he couldn’t help but do. He rationalised it to people that one day they would be worth a lot of money, and he was right, but truthfully he just liked having them.  _ One day Shaun will be able to read them all, and probably help me collect even more. _ Behind him he looked out the window to their backyard and thought about Halloween. Would they decorate the house and go all out this year? As it was Shaun’s first they would take him trick or treating and dress him up, but afterwards they had plans to attend one of his comrades’ party. He hadn’t seen his old unit for a few months so he was looking forward to it. But he couldn’t help but wonder if Grace had fears about him going back. Whenever he would mention his service she would get this look that was part sorrow and part dread, and no matter how hard she tried to cover it up it still showed. She had nothing to worry about though. That part of his life was over and he had no desire to go back to his unit. 

“Mark, what should we do about Riley?” She asked him.

He turned back to her and looked down at the dog bowl sitting empty on the floor. “I don’t know. It might be time to accept he’s gone.”

The family’s dog, Riley, had been missing for over a fortnight. He was a gorgeous female golden retriever that Grace had taken from one of her coworkers to look after, as they were moving into a place that prohibited pets, but as time went by the dog bonded with them and they officially adopted her. The theory was that someone had stolen her from the backyard in the dead of night, as she would never willingly abandon Grace or Shaun. That hurt Marcus the most as he knew how loyal she was, and how much Grace loved her. 

Codsworth set a plate down on the counter and awaited Mark’s approval, which he enthusiastically gave upon tasting the food.

“So what’s going on in the world today?” He asked.

Grace sipped at her coffee. “Same old, same old. There’s been another riot out west.”

“This food shortage is bad enough, but people rioting in the streets is hardly going to solve the issue.”

“They’re resisting the oppression of the very government that’s meant to protect them. Don’t tell me you agree with how the military have been handling things.” She said.

“Of course not, killing civilians is never the answer. But these riots will only get more people killed if they continue.” It was a sore topic for him. Mark had seen firsthand how devastating the outcomes could be. He and his unit had been stationed in Canada and eventually Mexico for several months. Their purpose being to hunt down the Chinese intelligence agents that were trying to spark a revolt against the United States. 

“Listen,” he began, “I know that you’re worried about me going back to the team. But you don’t have to. I made a promise to you, and to that beautiful kid that I’d be here.”

“Did I say I was worried?”

“You didn’t have to, hun. I know you.” He smirked.

Grace sighed and put her mug down. “I’m sorry. I just know how much you care about your unit. You’d walk all the way to Hell to help them.”

“You’re right,” he sat next to her and put his hand on her leg, “but I’d walk  _ through  _ Hell and endure it’s flames to protect you. That’s my  _ job _ .” 

She smiled and kissed him. A part of him missed the action and the urgency of being an Operator, but his drive for it had vanished as soon as he looked into his son’s beautiful blue eyes. This domestic life was what he had dreamed of before the war began, and now he could finally enjoy it. Or so he thought. As the couple were reading and finishing their breakfast Shaun began to cry from the nursery.

“Ah, sounds like  _ someone  _ made a stinky!” Codsworth announced. “I shall attend to young Shaun.”

When the shining bot was out of earshot Grace chuckled to herself. “You know, I was nervous at first, but Codsworth’s really good with Shaun.” 

“So long as Shaun doesn’t start calling him ‘ _ daddy _ ’.” He smirked.

Mark took their dishes and mugs to the sink and began cleaning them. 

“How’s work going?” He asked her.

“Well Gina asked me to review a case about two boxers. They did some big profitable match, but the loser is claiming the other guy cheated and is now suing him!”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” He laughed.

“I shit you not!” She paused for a moment and looked as though she wanted to say something. “So, you know how I’ve been looking for the right case to make my comeback with? Well I think I’ve found it.”

Since Grace had returned from maternity leave her firm had mostly given her reviews and small settlement cases to ease her back in. At first she was appreciative of that, but now it was time for her to get back in the saddle.

“Remember that Slocum’s Joe that was robbed a couple of weeks ago? Well they’ve charged a twenty-three year old kid with armed robbery, despite no hard evidence and a witness with conflicting statements.” She handed him the newspaper with a full page of articles around the incident.

“So they’re just looking to pin it on a random bystander?”

“Part of me thinks it could be race related. He is from Cape Verde after all. And lately the country has just been so prejudiced against other nations.”

Mark watched as the wheels were turning in her mind. She was already fixated on the case despite not even signing on. It had been a while since he’d seen that look in her eye.

“You want to take the case, don’t you?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.

“More than that,” she said as she stood up and paced around the living room, “I want to represent him pro bono. The kid has no money and no family in the country, so he’ll likely get stuck with a public defender. Which means the state will almost certainly win.”

“They’ll put up one hell of a fight, Grace. A case like this, in a time of war, can either demonstrate to the public how effective the government is at rooting out criminals and make examples of them to deter others from crime.  _ Or _ , it can serve to undermine them. And that’s something they won’t tolerate.”

“So you think I should leave it?” She asked with a furrowed brow.

“No, quite the opposite. If you represent this kid then he’ll almost certainly go free, but without you he’s screwed. And I think this is the perfect case for you to make your grand return with.”

She smiled. “I’ll only do this if you agree. The money isn’t an issue for us, I know. But this will take up a lot of my time, and might mean you’ll have to look after Shaun on your own until I win.”

“Hun, it’s fine. We’ll make it work.” He encouraged, walking over to embrace her. She had spent years supporting him and his career while also managing her own.  _ It’s time for me to support her. _ “Besides, I’ll have Codsworth to back me up if Shaun tries to take over the neighbourhood!”

The couple stood there in their embrace, ignoring everything except for each other. Sadly the moment was ruined when a ringing came from the front door.

“Oh shit,” she said, “can you get that? It’s probably that  _ Vault-Tec  _ salesman. He comes here for you everyday.”

“Well at least he’s determined.”

Mark had been dodging the sales representative for near on a fortnight now. At first he was simply preoccupied with other matters, but as time passed he and Grace wanted to see how persistent the man would be. That he hadn’t written him off yet was odd. Mark sighed as he reached the door then pulled it open.

“Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!” Said the man dressed in a yellow coat and a fine suit beneath it. Upon greeting Mark he lifted his hat off his head in a courteous manner, then set it back on.

“Good morning, not a bad looking day out there.” Mark smiled.

“Isn’t it? Just look at that sky out there!” He had an expressive face and far more enthusiasm in his answers than Mark had expected.

“You can’t begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you,” He began with a wide smile, “I’ve been trying for days! It’s a matter of utmost  _ urgency _ , I assure you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, this has been a fairly busy time for us. But, what exactly is so important?”

“Why nothing less than your entire future! If you haven’t noticed, sir, this country has gone to  _ heck in a handbasket _ ! If you’ll excuse my language.” He cleared his throat. “ _ The big  _ **_kaboom_ ** is— well it’s inevitable, I’m afraid. And coming sooner than you may think! If you catch my meaning?”

_ I think a lobotomised sloth could catch his meaning _ . Mark watched the man closely as he stood on the porch wielding his clipboard and sales pitch. At first glance it looked as though he enjoyed his job, and was perhaps quite good at it due to his positive nature. Yet, if one looked hard enough, it was obvious that his smile was fake. His grin was delightful and reassuring, but his eyes gave away the truth. Beneath the enthusiasm and comforting rhetoric, his eyes were screaming at Mark that he was stressed and afraid.

“Now, I know you’re a busy fellow, so I won’t take up much of your time.  _ Time  _ being a precious commodity…” He trailed off, only to clear his throat and continue. “I’m here today to tell you that, because of your family’s service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault!  **_Vault 111!_ ** ”

“But there’s room for my entire family, right? Otherwise you’re wasting your time pal.”

“Of course, of course! Minus your robot, naturally. In fact you’re  _ all  _ already cleared for entrance. It’s just a matter of verifying some information. Don’t want there to be any hold ups in the  _ unforeseen  _ event of total atomic annihilation.”

Vault-Tec had made a fortune building hundreds of vaults across the country, selling off spaces to the rich and powerful, and taking Government money as payment for services rendered to the nation. Mark had never put much stock in the ‘ _ total atomic annihilation _ ’ that many were fearing. If either the Chinese or Americans were going to nuke one another then it would have happened already.  _ Either when the Reds landed in Alaska, or when we pushed into mainland China _ . Yet here they were. Neither side wished to utterly obliterate the world, with missiles only ever being used as an intimidation tactic. Still, having a spot in the local Vault would do them no harm. 

The rep continued to tell him all about the Vault. Inside they would have their own private quarters resembling a modern home, and would be part of a large community of other locals that will come together to build a new life for each other.  _ What’s the catch though? _ The Vault had been under construction 

When he asked how long they would remain underground the rep somewhat hesitated to answer. Apparently they would go over that information inside the Vault should the worst come to pass. He didn’t particularly like not knowing all the details, but regardless, he filled in what needed filling and signed what needed signing. They were now officially citizens of Vault 111. But there was one particular detail that he wondered about.

“Might I ask why it is that my family has been chosen over others? It surely can’t just be due to my military background, otherwise you’d have made the offer to the Jamesons round the corner.”

“Oh, well, I’m afraid that I can’t really—“ He stammered, and peered into Mark’s eyes, seeing enough to make him forthcoming. “I can’t rightly say the name of who the request came from but it was from a high ranking military official. Two in fact!”

Mark sighed and laughed to himself for a moment, probably appearing quite mad to the salesman at his door. He looked over his shoulder to Grace, who knew as well as he did.  _ My parents _ .

“Well, that’s everything!” The man said after clearing his throat. “I’ll just walk this over to the Vault. Congratulations on being  **_prepared for the future!_ ** ”

Mark shut the door and leaned against it with his head lowered for a moment.  _ Why on earth would they sign me up for this? _ As far as he knew his parents had been perpetually disappointed in him, even after he enlisted, so why would they go out of their way to arrange this? 

“You should call them.” Grace suggested from the couch in the lounge.

He giggled. “I’ll call mine if you call yours.”

“My father didn’t arrange for my place in a Vault,  _ yours  _ did. Why not try to mend the bridge?”

“I can’t. I just can’t.” He felt his gut drop and knew the tears would begin to build. “At my brother’s funeral my own mother loudly stated that she wished it was me that had been killed, and not Shaun. She actually wished me dead in front of dozens of our family and friends, while my father told me to leave and return to Boston. How could I ever reconcile with them after that? They didn’t just burn the bridge, Grace, they fucking bombed it.”

His family had always been a sore topic. Neither he or Grace would mention them unless absolutely necessary. She despised them for turning on Mark as they did, especially after all he had done for his country. But she also had a talent for reminding him that  _ his  _ parents were still alive. The chance for reconciliation was not impossible, or at the very least, the chance for him to confront them and find closure. 

“We could go and see them, Mark. Or if not them, your sister. Michelle’s dying to see you again, so are your nieces.” She stood up and walked over to take his hands. “If our boy is going to take his first steps in the future, then he needs to see his father take baby ones too.”

He scoffed. “That’s cute.”

“Thanks, I thought you’d appreciate it. I’ve been waiting for the right occasion to use all month!”

Mark tried to resist but he giggled regardless. “How can I possibly ignore your elegant way with words?”

Grace winked at him and headed for the kitchen. He leaned on the couch and thought about his sister. They were on good terms and spoke often, though she and Grace were closer having always wanted sisters. Michelle had endured their parents’ expectations with more patience than Mark, understanding why he was estranged due to their overbearing actions. She was the only one of the children left that they spoke to and saw regularly.  _ I pity her for that, and my nieces. _ Before Shaun was born, Mark and Grace would often babysit Michelle’s two young daughters and as such were quite close. It had been good practice for them.

Mark sat in the lounge for a while watching the morning news, until Shaun’s cries echoed through the house.

“ _ Mister Stark? _ ” Codsworth appeared in the hallway and waited for him to arrive. “Shaun has been changed but he absolutely  _ refuses _ to calm down. I think he needs some of that  _ maternal affection  _ you seem to be so good at.”

Mark took over from the robot and entered the nursery. The little man was screaming his lungs out in the crib. He picked up his son and soothed him in his arms. It didn’t take long for him to settle down then. To keep him content he walked around the room and let him see everything. On the floor there was a tricycle that Mark had bought a bit prematurely.  _ Can’t wait to teach him to ride this _ . On the shelf above were several spelling blocks that Shaun wished to grab.  _ He’ll either be great at spelling, or smashing blocks together _ . Eventually Shaun was calm and happy enough for him to be put back in the crib. Mark stood over him letting the boy suck on his finger and giggle at all of his ridiculous expressions. 

“ _ How are the two most important men of my life doing? _ ” Grace asked, watching them from the doorway.

“We’re just perfect.” He smiled.

“Spin the mobile, he loves that.” 

Mark triggered the device and set the trio of spaceships above the crib to spin around and around. Shaun giggled and laughed, reaching for the ships. Even at such an early stage Mark knew that his son would grow up to be quite the scholar. He had a curious mind and nature, and that would take him far in life. 

“We really oughta decide on his Halloween costume,” she said, “I’m thinking we go with the little devil outfit.”

“Is that because he wakes you up at three o’clock  _ every night _ ?”

“Not at all. How could you ever think I would do such a thing?” She smirked. 

“Well, I’m leaning more towards a sheriff's outfit.”

“Oh please, that’s not nearly half  as cute as a devil costume!” 

“Either way, we still need to sort out our  _ own  _ outfits.” He reminded her, only for them to debate about it all further. Eventually she got her way though. Shaun would go as the little devil, while Mark would dress up as the sheriff. As for Grace she didn’t quite know yet.

“Listen,” She said, “I was thinking we could head to the park for a bit. The weather should hold up.”

“Will it be like that night in the park a year ago?” He smirked.

“Well if you play your cards right.”

“ _ Sir? Mum? You should come and see this! _ ” Codsworth yelled from the living room. 

“Codsworth? What is it?” Grace called out.

No answer came from the lounge so they both marched out of the nursery, with Grace carrying Shaun tightly in her arms. It was a harrowing few steps, yet Mark didn’t know why. The shiny metal robot hovered in front of the television, and Grace gasped in shock. That was when Marcus Stark realised how wrong he was, that the world he thought he knew was far more unstable than he had believed. _ They’ve done it. They fired the nukes. _ Everything he had done, everything he had fought for, and everything he had endured, was about to be rendered utterly futile. Every friend and comrade he’d lost in the war would have died for nothing. Every sacrifice he made, and every compromise he found was pointless. The last eleven years of his life were wasted.  _ Dear God… _


End file.
